The Motor Maids by Rose, Shamrock and Thistle Part 14

"What time was it when you escaped?" he asked.

"Oh, somewhere between four and five o'clock."

"Did you ever hear of Miss Rivers' Lodging House, Mr. Kalisch?" asked Billie.

"How can I tell?" he answered. "London is full of such black holes as that."

But Billie in her heart had a conviction that Telemac knew Miss Felicia Rivers' lodging house very well. She couldn't explain why the thought had come to her or what difference it made if the strange man was acquainted with the wretched place; but she felt that he did not wish to appear to know it.

"How did you finally find your way back?" he asked.

"Marie--" began Nancy, and then stopped. If Marie-Jeanne had only not bound them over to secrecy! It was so difficult to tell the story and leave out the most interesting half.

"Another lodger, a girl, helped us," said Billie.

Telemac left them, promising to call at Westminster Chambers in a few days, and presently they finished dinner and with many other diners rolled away in motor cars to the opera.

"I feel like a real society belle," said Nancy, bridling with pride.

"I feel like a princess," observed Elinor.

"Of course you do, Lady Clara Vere de Vere," put in Billie.

"After we get into our box," began Maria, "perhaps,-in the first intermission, you may,-I'm not at all certain, mind you, but you may meet a real live lord. How would you like that?"

"A lord!" they repeated.

"Yes, he is a friend of mine and he often comes into my box on nights when I go to the opera to hear other people sing."

"Is he handsome?" demanded Nancy.

"Very, I think."

"Does he own a palace?" asked Mary.

"No, not a palace," answered Maria smiling. "He's counted poor as the world goes here, I believe. But he has an old place in Ireland somewhere he's very proud of. However, his t.i.tle and his ruined castle are only a small part of him. He is really a very fine man. He has asked me to visit his place in Ireland, and I do hope he will come to the box to-night, because I have concocted a wonderful scheme; and if it turns out as I wish, it will concern all of you. But here we are at the theater."

The four girls were not very intimate with grand opera. On one memorable occasion a company of great singers had given one performance in West Haven. "Lohengrin" was the opera, and as luck would have it, "Lohengrin"

was the opera to-night. Many people smiled up at their eager faces looking down from the box, half awed, half bewildered at the brilliant audience. Miss Campbell and Maria sat in the back talking together.

It was very much like a dream:-tier after tier of private boxes were filled with parties of men and women, all very handsome and very beautifully dressed; the air hummed with conversation, like a bee-hive; from the pit, which seemed a great distance away, an occasional laugh floated up through the haze of talk; and through all sounded the noise of many instruments "tuning up."

Suddenly a slender, nervous-looking man emerged from somewhere underneath the stage and walked over to the leader's stand in front of the orchestra. Immediately the entire audience burst into applause. The leader bowed, seized his baton, the lights went down, a hush fell over the place, and the overture began.

"The leader's baton has a light in it like a fairy's wand," exclaimed Mary, forgetting where she was.

Maria smiled and touched the young girl's cheek lightly with one finger.

"Lots of people think it is a fairy's wand," she whispered.

How the music throbbed and thrilled! It went up and up in a great crescendo. Elinor shivered and closed her eyes. When she opened them again the curtain was slowly rising. As the opera proceeded she was lost to the audience, lost to her friends, to everything except the story of Elsa of Brabant.

Nancy listened to the music, but her eyes were busy, also, looking at the beautiful dresses of the ladies in the boxes adjoining.

"Last night," Billie was thinking, "we were two beggar girls dressed in rags, and to-night we are sitting in a box at the grand opera. I can hardly believe I am not dreaming."

As for little Mary, she had but one thought. With all her heart and soul she was waiting for Lohengrin, the Silver Knight, who would presently appear in his swan boat, far down the winding stream. At last the curtain went down. There was a movement, a stir, a burst of conversation and laughter, and she heard Maria saying:

"Lord Glenarm, let me introduce you to my young friends from home."

The four girls turned around quickly. It almost seemed to them that Lohengrin himself must have made a rapid change from his silver armor to evening clothes and walked into their box. But on second glance, they saw that Lord Glenarm was older than the stage Lohengrin and much finer looking, too. His brown hair was slightly gray at the temples; his gray eyes had blue lights in them; he had rather a beaked nose and a fine, square chin. He was very tall, and his shoulders stooped a little. The girls could not tell why he reminded them at first of the tall blonde young Lohengrin. Perhaps it was a certain seriousness in his face and strength of purpose.

"It is a great pleasure always to meet young ladies from America," said Lord Glenarm, shaking hands with each of the Motor Maids, as Maria spoke their names. He had been presented to Miss Campbell, of course, first of all.

"You will be especially interested in these girls, Lord Glenarm," Maria continued, "because they are such enthusiastic motorists. This remarkable child," she went on, indicating Billie, "runs her own car, and last summer they motored across the American continent from Chicago to the Pacific Coast. What do you think of that?"

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Lord Glenarm. "Across the prairies and the Rocky Mountains and the great desert? You see, I know your country very well. How did you do it?"

Billie blushed. She had never spoken to a real lord in her life before, but this one seemed quite natural and like other people,-only handsomer and more gracious even than most other people.

"Oh, we had lots of accidents," she said, "but we never thought of turning back but once."

"And why was that?" asked Lord Glenarm with much interest.

"It was because Cousin Helen got so awfully hungry in Iowa."

The Englishman threw back his head and laughed as if he enjoyed it immensely. The others laughed, too, and the ice was broken.

"I should never have imagined this fragile, dainty little lady had an appet.i.te," he exclaimed, turning to Miss Campbell.

"And why not, pray?" demanded Miss Campbell. "I can't exist on canned tomatoes and soggy bread any more than any one else."

"We will see that you fare better in England, Miss Campbell," he said.

"You shall have squab and strawberries and Devonshire cream. Isn't that what ladies like?"

"They like good beefsteak when they are hungry," said Miss Campbell.

"And riding in the open air all day is calculated to give one a pretty fair appet.i.te."

"The girls have brought their famous car with them, Lord Glenarm," put in Maria.

"Oh, ho!" he exclaimed, "so you're going to tour the British Isles.

That's a mere bagatelle to such seasoned motorists as you, I suppose.

But when you come to Ireland, perhaps you'll stop and visit me. I have a nice old place there."

"Is it a castle?" demanded Mary, who yearned infinitely to see a real palace and a real castle.

"Yes, a jolly old castle."

"And we're to stay there?" cried Nancy in an ecstatic tone.